Distractions
by Hello-Sweetie1311
Summary: After Castiel's death, Dean wants to make someone hurt. Balthazar is more than willing. Slash, M/M, heavy BDSM. More chapters to follow, i promise.


_"I think you have me confused with that other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you?" _

The world looked a lot fuzzier six beers and a fifth of jack down. A lot softer around the edges. Just the way Dean liked it. This, he chuckled at his own wit, was the twilight zone of getting shitfaced.

The point where he knew where he was, but didn't really mind so much he sat alone in a dive bar. Sharp enough to fund his drinking by hustling losers at pool, but not loud enough to draw attention to him. Capable of moving himself forward, but cold just stand to think about where he'd been. Able to just sit, and think. Think of his dad, and Sam, and bobby, they didn't hurt too much. Memories of growing up, thing's he had forgotten he remembered.

Hunting with Bobby when his dad was away. Always walking Sammy into every new school, who was still nervous and still tried to fit in, long after Dean himself stopped giving a damn. Why bother when you'd only be moved on in a few weeks anyway. Sat in endless motel rooms, bored, not knowing if John was going to come back. Constantly being told to look after Sammy. He ordered another beer and another double whisky. The barmaid looked concerned, he'd only been there half an hour, but poured it anyway.

His mom. He often wondered what life would be like if she was alive. But she wasn't, so suck it up, Winchester. He didn't remember much, long blonde hair, her smile, holding his hand. Enough though.

He tried so hard not to think about the person who brought him here, but his thoughts always rushed there anyway. it used to be, when we thought of love, he thought of caramel skin and curves, Cassie. That had changed, intensified a million and became hard muscles, pale skin, and black hair. Blue eyes and a dirty trench coat.

_Castiel. _It was like a physical wound, only Sam couldn't fix this with some dental floss. So dean chose to get drunk. A lot. Even if Sam suspected about his brother and the angel, he hadn't said a word. Dean didn't say a word. The longer it went on, the more awkward it would be to bring up. The more painful they knew it would be, the longer they left it. The infinite loop of avoiding chick-flick moments.

Besides, what could he even say? _I'm sorry your angel boyfriend consumed every soul in purgatory and went on an evil god spree before walking into a lake? _Yeah, Dean could just imagine that conversation.

He missed Castiel so much it hurt, and it only went away when he couldn't see from booze, stumbling home with a nameless whore and a skin full. Only to regret it the next day, imagine what Cas would say. How those eyes would cloud over when he saw his hunter on a fast track to destroying himself, taking home anything around and willing. Not talking to Sam, who got more worried by the day. Plastering on the devil-may-care attitude and pretending everything was just fucking shiny.

He needed a girl. Any girl, anything. Someone who he could pound into and close his eyes and remember and forget Castiel, all at the same time. Someone to be a little too rough with, someone to leave bruises and bites and scratches on; leave that dull ache between their legs the next day. Someone to take out a tiny part of the white-hot anger and pain and grief he felt towards the world. He wanted someone to use, like he and his brother had always been used, by heaven and hell and demons and all kinds of douchebags.

"Now what, is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" The smooth British accent might as well have been nails down a blackboard to the elder Winchester. He spun round in his chair, sporting a level twenty-three bitch face even Sam would have been proud of.

"_Balthazar. _" the name was spat out. "What the hell are you doing here; can't a man get wasted in peace anymore?"

The blonde British angel just stood there, that never-ending smug smirk on his face. He was so god damn arrogant, so self-assured. Gabriel was like that too, he supposed it went with the gig of rebel angel; the only one who was still almost shy was cas-

_No. stop it. _ His brain wouldn't let him go there, he just couldn't afford too. _Don't scratch the wall. _For the first time he knew what Sammy had gone through.

Balthazar gave no notion of hearing him, sliding into the seat opposite Dean and wolf whistling over the barmaid, who to Deans astonishment, giggles and sashayed over.

"Hello darling" instantly the blonde was oozing confidence and sex appeal.

"Can I trouble you for, oh, six more beers and a bottle of your finest whisky? You're an angel." With a wink and a giggle, the barmaid was off again.

"When the fuck did I invite you to join me?" Dean was incredulous, pissed off and not in the mood for the company of angels.

"Ooh darling, handsome hunter sat brooding alone, that's my permanent invitation?" The ordered drinks were slid across the table but Balthazar didn't even look at their barmaid, she stormed of looking very put out. The blonde didn't even seem to notice: swigging straight from the whiskey bottle and holding it out to dean with a raised eyebrow.

_Arrogant, dick head son of a bitch. _Dean wanted to slap him, just to see the look of shock and a bit of pain in the angels blue eyes. Then that fast, a wealth of fantasies exploded like fireworks into the hunter's imagination.

Dragging him across the room, his hands wrapped so tightly around short blonde hair, ripping away the clothes he wore like a rock star. Camping on cuffs too tight, so that the angel moaned. Scratching and clawing at the muscled body, not holding back like he always had. The angel could take it. Slapping him, whispering filth into his ear, abusing him and teasing him and making him beg-

"My my, Dean, Anymore and you'll have me blushing." The angels tone had changed, huskier, his accent thicker.

Sheer mortification had Dean hurtling back to reality as sharply as if he had whiplash, leaving him with a red face and an uncomfortable tightness in his jeans.

Balthazar had moved across, sat in the seat next to dean, his suit jacket slipped off to reveal a tight grey t-shirt that made deans mouth water a little bit. He wasn't smirking any more. He was biting down on his lower lip, his eyes glazed and burning.

"stop reading my thoughts you dick!" the words came out weak and strangled, not the blazing anger he wanted it too. He realised Balthazar was as turned on at his violent fantasies as Dean was.

"stop including me in them then. Damn Winchester, never would have guessed you were into the kinky stuff, but okay, im game. "

Then, with a click of his fingers, dean found himself transported, air angel style. Where he was exactly he didn't know, and there was no time to catch his bearings, as currently a gorgeous blonde angel was sat in his lap, running hands through his hair, his lips pressed against the hunters.

Arousal hit Dean like a gunshot to the chest, within seconds he was kissing the angel back, flipping him onto his back. Their tongues fought for dominance, teeth clashed and lips were bit, after a little while of fighting, Balthazar quickly submitted, letting dean control the kiss only responding, so damn passive it made Dean moan into his mouth. Dean grabbed the angel's hair, forcing his head to the side so hard it would have broken a human's neck, so he could kiss and bite down the angel's neck, leaving bruises and leaving the angel moaning and hissing in pleasure.

His mouth left the angel's skin, causing him to whine. Dean sat straddling the angel, reached back his hand and slapped his face, hard. It felt good, to see the pain and arousal and a little bit of defiance there. Good, he wanted Balthazar to hurt but still consent to this.

"Shut up. You want this?" dean rolled his hips, pushing both their clothed erections together and Balthazar moaned again. Dean slapped him again.

"Stop making so much fucking noise. When I want you to open your dirty little mouth, you'll know it, understand?"

The angel, silenced, nodded frantically. Dean smirked darkly.

"Good. Now, im going to teach you- he tweaked the angels nipples through his t-shirt, hard- how to behave. I'm going to knock some of that arrogance out of you strip you down and leave you begging for my cock like the horny bitch we know you are, Balthazar…"

Deans dirty little speech, which if physical reactions were anything to go by, was driving his angel absolutely crazy, was silenced momentarily as he finally, took in the surroundings Balthazar had zapped them too.

It was an honest to god –oops, the hunter thought- BDSM dungeon. Black walls, lined with shelves of things dean had only dreamed of using on someone, ropes and cuffs and floggers and clamps and gags. In one corner was a dog cage, in the other a medical looking table with ties on it. Fresh waves of fantasies hit again and again as he looked around the room.

"well well well… you brought us here?" Even Deans' tone had changed, darker, more dominating, more commanding. He quite liked it.

"yes, yeah I did. Do you like it, darling?" just a touch of that over-confident angel again, and dean wrapped his hand around his throat and squeezed until the angel tapped his hand and dean understood to stop.

BDSM was about limits, and respecting them, even dean knew that. It wasn't really the dominant in control, the submissive sets the limits and what they won't agree with, and that has to be respected. Even if dean wanted to hurt Balthazar, he knew limits couldn't be broken.

"What-did-you-call-me-whore?" the whisper was low and dangerous. The angel shuddered.

"Yes-sir. I'm sorry, sir." Finally, he was getting it.

"Good boy. Now, strip!" the second the command was uttered, Balthazar was pulling off his clothes, leaving a naked, toned body that was completely unmarked. Dean couldn't wait to change that.

"Kneel. Hands on your head." Instantly the command was obeyed, dean was having hard time believing his luck. Who knew sarcastic, flirty Balthazar made such a willing submissive?

Dean stood in front of the kneeling angel, and then rubbed his leather booted foot against the angel's naked crotch. Balthazar's eyes rolled but he didn't moan.

Dean walked over to the shelves, picked out his first item, a pair of handcuffs, and twirled them around one hand.

"Now. Now im really going to have some fun with you."

He could have sure he saw the angel gulp.


End file.
